you're making the rounds

you're making the rounds

searching for words

clues to where I keep

the keys of my

imagination

you have time

on your hands now that aging

has carried you to the last shore

—is he stealing,

can I trump him?—

the envy

of a new identity,

the terrible envy

of a new experience

drills a hole in your heart

and I wake

with the full expression

of joy

the blissful joy of knowing

you search me out

you search all of  me

for a clue and find nothing

but the original

inspired by your hounding…

come, listen to wolf howl